


They say I can't love you

by orphan_account



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Batman Begins (2005), Dark Knight (2008)
Genre: Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Evil, Ist person, M/M, Road Trip, Road Trips, Smoking, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Unrequited Love, organisations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-09 18:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Damian Wayne is kidnapped by his ultimate crush and his father's possible-boyfriend/lover the Joker, he has no idea what he is getting into.<br/>Then they go on a road trip except it's not a road trip because they are being chased by some gigantic, universal evil, so to speak.</p><p>"What the hell is that?!" <br/>"I think that's a giant mu-"<br/>"RUN!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The begging of my obsession

Two writhing bodies, bound together by darkness and hate and all the evil things in this world twist and curl and bump together in a damp corner in the black black heart of Gotham, as it beats to the rhythm of wailing sirens and the deaths of the not so innocent innocents.

And the ringing of the alarm clock wakes Damian from his dreams and he sighs groggily, and pulls himself out of bed and off to dress. His father, Bruce Wayne, is most likely still asleep from patrolling the city as Batman. His mother is far, far away from him, in a land that he called home.

And so, in the early twilight morning, Damian is alone in Wayne manor, drowning in his thoughts. When he first took up the mantle of Robin, he had his doubts, about what he should do and what he will face, but when he first gazed upon his father's nemesis, he couldn't breath.

\-----------------  
Damian's pov from now on

When the man leaps into action with Batman, my father, I was mesmerised by the fast, flitting action of the clown in purple. So when the clown winks at me as I snap a photo secretly with a cell phone, dressed in green and red and gold, like a giant lantern against the ink blot skies of Gotham city-just like the Joker with his painted face.  
And something tugs at my heart and it pounds when the clown looks at me, Robin, Batman's sidekick and lingers on me for maybe a second (He didn't, Damian is just wishing) and when he turns back and continues fighting with Batman I was disappointed that he doesn't look at him for longer.

The next few times that I saw the Joker, it was always when he is on the way to Arkham. And when I ask the old man about the Joker, my old man just ignores me or tell me what a bad, evil man the Joker is, and I can't help but grumble in my mind that Bruce Wayne can ignore the fact that I've killed people, why is he so obsessive about anyone else killing people?

But I never brought it up with my old man.

And this is how I developed what everyone could call a crush on the Joker. So I start to collect pictures and article of him, crossing out all the things to do with him being a monster, because if killing makes people monsters, then I should just walk myself to the nearest jail.  
Well I collect photos of the Joker, and notes and I put them into a notebook, I am not so stupid as to leaving them where anyone could see, of course.  
Well, by this point you would be calling me a bit crazy, for being in love-yes, love, I know what I am talking about, stop looking at me like that.

Hell, if the old man knows he would have a heart attack, stick up his arse like the guy is. So would Alfred, but Alfred can cope with everything.

And I dress up in 'civilian' clothes and go to school, taking my artbook and other notes. Being sixteen is hard, being in love is harder, and being a 'villain' turned 'vigilante' with a gigantic  
crush on Gotham's number one most hated, I have no idea how I would live with himself. That is, of course, if I am anyone else other than Damian Wayne (Al Ghul), assassin and hero.

So I go down, greets Alfred, in all his British-y, butlery glory, as I thought, and Alfred smiles, all mysterious and wizardly and gives me breakfast.

I don't really have anything to say to Alfred, but it gives me a small tingle of victory that I have the Joker's portrait in my notebook. While my other notebooks has all the photos and articles, this one has my drawings and my fantasies, drawn and written down.

And I leave for school and my old man doesn't even get up to say anything. Unless it's for patrol, we barely meet at all. Sometimes I wish that my mom is hear, but she'll obviously dislike my love for the Joker.

On the road to school, all I can think of is the man in purple.


	2. 2. So I was kidnapped

On the way to school, all I can think of is the man in purple. I ignore most other people, they are not important, not really.  
My old man would definitely disagree, I thought as I crossed the road to Gotham High.

All the socialites crowd around my father like flies and the newspapers either congratulate him on letting his son fight for himself or say that Wayne is a bad father for letting me in a place where anyone could be.

To be honest, I rather like it here. I'll probably get bored and kill everyone of these snobby, rich brats. Considering I am supposed to be a snobby rich brat, I find that quite disconcerting. 

So I walk into homeroom and some people stare at me like a zoo animal and others glare at me because of reasons, but I don't give a shit because I am Damian Wayne and I am awesome.

And the teacher blabbers on and my tablemate, I think his name is bob or something doodles on his notebook (psh, my drawings of Joker is way better)

And then a scream from down the corridors and a loud 'bang!' of a gunshot has everyone standing on their toes. The teacher gulps and   
sits down when the man of my dreams kicks open the door in all his painted glory and laughs in our faces. As I said, the man of my dreams.

And there I am, sitting on my desk waiting for another boring school day to pass so I can go and dress up in tights and fight the 'ordinary' criminals while my father go up close and personal with the Joker.

And then this happens. Lady luck must be on my side today. So I lean on by desk and stare at his face while all my classmates cower in fear, psh, cowards.

Then I lean on my hands to get closer to the Joker, and I suddenly want to just jump over but then he moves closer to me and grabs my face, with all the leather gloves and all that and I almost lost it right then but I calmed myself down (yoga helps).

"Hello there~" The Joker says-nope, growls with his deep(but not raspy like Batman) voice and I just melts and I think he notices because oh my god he raised an eyebrow dammit you are an assassin stop acting like a lovesick teenager I yell at myself mentally.  
"Bruce Wayne's little brat, I see..." He giggles and I melt some more. The other people in the room seems to think that I am a dead man when the Joker grins. Damn, but his face is so close to mine. I am pretty sure this is on the news everywhere by now.

Right, and then the Joker drags me by my collar out of the classroom and puts a gun by my temple. Because of my training with my mom and the league of Assassins, I can't say that I feel too scared. Wondering if the Joker was impressed by me.

And obviously, outside the school there are hoards of cops and reporters, all trying to catch the news to the Joker kidnapping Bruce Wayne's son.

And the Joker just casually hops on a black van and one of his croonies starts to drive, and the swarms of cops and reporters couldn't stop him so police cars starts to follow and the T.V vans follows the cop cars and I am pretty sure there is a helicopter somewhere.

The car lurches and swivels across the streets of Gotham city as the GCPD chases him, and the Joker pulls me as closely as possible so it looks like he is hugging me so I almost have a heart attack, even if the henchman's driving skills is not that bad considering.


	3. 3. So this is kinda like an interlude

Ch2:

 

So _somehow_ I got caught up in a car chase and the helicopter stops when the other croonies shoot at it so it is most likely a media copter.

 

The gun never left my temple, and I was pretty sure they wouldn't shoot me, but it's still pretty uncomfortable. Joker smells like gasoline and blood and greasepaint, and it smells good, to my surprise. And my heart almost combusts, but that's a given.

 

And they didn't say anything until we got by a small alley and the Joker jumps out with me and runs into a small (probably abandoned) apartment but I've lived in worse while on missions so yeah.

 

Then the Joker frowns, looks at me like he has forgotten something and licks his lips and scars and I almost fall down right then, but my legs are still pretty shaky(I have it bad) and says

 

"What the hell am I going to do with _you_?" He says and Damn, that voice. I suddenly wanted to just run and make out with him, so I had to look at a rather ugly henchman and take a deep brath. No need to lose control infront of these uglies, Damian. Control yourself, Damian.

 

“Whatever you want to.” Dammit, I lost control. The hunches are now looking at me like I am some idiot that us about to get my brains blown out but the Joker laughs and shoves me into one of the two rooms and dismisses the clowns.

 

Then he leaves, and locks the door and I was alone again, free to look around and observe his surroundings, a good habit that is honed by being robin.

 

Not that there is much to look at. The room is bare and there is only a bed with a white sheet. So I lied down on the bed, and fell asleep to dreams of the Joker pressing kisses to places I don’t want to talk about, so yeah, being all hot and bothered is not my intention, but whatever.

 

* * *

 

Bruce sighs as he continues to pace around the room, Alfred’s face as stressed and worried as his.

 

He was in the office for once when it came onto the news. All the employees and secretaries looked at him in shock and with sympathy drove him to run. And he ran, pushing past people and through offices, not caring what they might think. He wants to just put on his suit and rescue Damian, who might as well be tied up and tortured by the Joker.

 

He should have told the clown that his family is off limits. But now Damian is in danger.

 

The familiar ring of his cell phone rings through his mind like a shockwave.

 

“H _eyy_ Bat _sss_ ~” The Joker hisses.

 

“What did you do with my son?!” Bruce roars, mentally ripping the Joker apart. The bastard.

 

“Ehehe” The Joker giggles. “Your boy is perfectly-ah, fine. Took ‘im cause I needed a hostage. No worries, I return Robin to ya all safe and sound tonight, yeah?”

 

Bruce sits down heavily on the couch. “If I found out that you harmed him in any way-“

 

The Joker laughs, sharper and shriller than usual and Bruce senses that he might have hurt the clown with hateful words. Again.

 

“Ya really think I’m that stupid?!” The Joker hangs up and Bruce exchanges a glance with Alfred.

 

“He’ll be fine.” Alfred’s sureness reassures Bruce.

 

“Yes, he will.”

 


	4. 4. Run run run away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you are confused.
> 
> Damian is kidnapped during the day (like 9am or so)
> 
> Bruce gives the call at around 10am.
> 
> J gets his call at around 4pm. Then they go out and Damian thought that it was morning next day.
> 
> So by now it's early afternoon :D

“Gotta go, boys!” The Joker unlocks Damian’s room and kicks the door open. He just got a phone call. Which is bad. This means he needs to abandon it for now and leave Gotham as quickly as possible.

Hmm, very bad _indeed._ He has just settled a little bit in this city, made out with Batman a few times(no big deal),  and blew a building or two (not much people died, but Batman was pissed)

And now the call is here and he has to _run_. Or he get rid of these people once and for all.

When it first happened, he was just a kid on the streets of Chicago, and the details are blurred but what happened must’ve been, ah, crazy. So what shred of self preservation he has left told him to run. Again.

But he is quite, _tired_ of running. He is going to _destroy_ them.

Dropping his phone on the apartment floor where bats can find it, he gestured the one henchman to give him his phone.

“Get up, kiddo! Road trip time!” If he left the kid here to these people Bats’ll kill him, so nope, has to bring him along.

All the clowns are dismissed except for one. All the other henches call him ‘weirdo,’ cause the guy is kinda crazy and always charge into police fire head first and all that. Personality wise, Mr. J likes that.

So weirdo stays as the Joker grabs a half asleep Damian and they sneak into a small, dull red mini Toyota. And dumped Damian on the back seat.

 

“Drive.” The weirdo, who is called Jackie but whatever, scratches the blond scruff on his neck and wipes a few strands of hay coloured hair from his eyes agreed. Jackie has always liked adventures. Why the fuck else did you think he joined up with the Joker?

So here they are, all dressed in ‘civilian’ clothing, off far away from Gotham City. Then highway to hell by AC/DC starts playing. How fucking fitting.

* * *

 

When I was dragged up from the warm bed by the Joker, I was _pissed._ But then I saw his face, without paint and all that, and I could not help but stare. Sure, he looks pretty badass and awesome with all the paint on, but he looks so, well, gorgeous is how I’d describe him, and maybe I am biased but whatevs.

So, not bothering to let me brush my teeth, he shoves me in a rusty red Toyota and some wild looking guy with a scruffy, short beard starts to drive. We went past shops and streets and the skyscrapers of the modernised, glorious cityscape of Gotham.

I looked out of the window and saw the Wayne enterprises building, and a hand reached out to touch the protective glass (that is most likely bulletproof glass). Somehow, this feels like a turning point in my life.

Before yesterday, all my fantasises and dreams seemed to be far, so far away that I would probably grow up, marry some girl or maybe stay single like my dad forever now.

 

And then the Joker barges out of my mind and into my life, and now we are going on  some sort of road trip. It’s not as simple as it, I realise as we drive through the suburbs with the neatly lined houses with shining windows and perfect lawns and the Joker stuck some sort of latex or silicon cover over his face and it hides the scars.

 

My fingers itches to rip them off, to show the scars that fits him, so uniquely like they are made for him. But I didn’t cause they guy might just shoot me.

“You know where we are goin’ kid?”

The Joker turns around and asks, his hair tied in a low ponytail. The sun shines through the window and behind his head, the golden light reflecting off his face and honey coloured hair, a few strands caught in the sunlight. 

He looks like an angle, and I forgot to breath for a second or a minute, but all I wanted to do id peel of the latex and see how he looks like with the scars and the halo of sunlight.

The moment is broken by the henchman.

 

“Nah boss, kid aint know _nothing_ ” he calls out, and the Joker nods, and shifts to sit comfortably in his seat, adjusting the blue hoodie he is wearing.

 

My breathing caught up with me, and so did the disappointment that it’s over so quickly, and I just glared holes in the henchman’s back while he drove, all the way onto the highways that lead out of the city. I noticed that we are moving south.

 

Then the highway to hell begins to play and I nodded to the music, driving into the mid-afternoon sun.

 


	5. 5. Sick thoughts and abandonment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No Brucey! What a misunderstanding! Is Brucey bad for feeling jealous lol cause at that poin he knows dami is his son and loves him but there is the whole thing with talia and the assassins and Ra's and all that so yeah lol

Alfred frowns as his phone rings, the ring-tone still an old song he favoured from back when he was young.

Seeing the number, Alfred pales, and sits down, murmuring that he is a little too old for this. They have not changed their code, he sees. Or perhaps it’s a bait.

He hangs up, but soon he gets a text. Those slimey wankers.

“Stop hiding. We know where you are.” The text read, and Alfred knew that at this moment his peaceful life at Wayne manor has ended.

Being on the run from those nefarious people has been hard, but he could not ignore his conscience that stopped him from working with them, when he was young and poor and desperate.

 

* * *

 

 

Bruce has gone out about half an hour earlier, and the sky is completely dark. Small white lights litters the sky, but most is blocked out by the bright lights of Gotham.

For a moment, he contemplates telling Bruce, about everything that has happened in the past and his life on the run, ending just a pitiful three months before being employed by the Wayne’s while wearing a stolen tuxedo , while Bruce is just a newborn babe.

He decides not to. Bruce would definitely try and do something, fight against these people. And he will most likely lose, one man against many. He needs to leave. It seems that for the past decades the powers of them has not fallen, but rose through the passage of time.

He has done a number on them a long while ago, but it may be hard to do so again.

* * *

 

Bruce stumbling into the manor, not bothering to get out of his suit jolted Alfred out of his contemplations.

“That Bastard” Bruce breathed hard as he recounted to Alfred about seeing no one in the Joker’s apartment, apart from the Wayne-phone, laying innocently on the ground, as if the Joker has left it there as a mockery to his almost-trust.

It is almost like the clown just abandoned him. Abandoned Gotham. But Batman does not allow himself to think such thoughts, because the Joker would never leave Gotham, leave _him_

Bruce felt like a fist has squeezed his heart tight as he turns to phone on to check for anything as he sees that the entire history of the phone has been wiped away.

He tells himself that it is idiotic and petty to think that the Joker felt anything apart from lust and a sense of adventure when they trysts in the dark but he still wants to fool himself that there may be something there, something that is not firey lust and blind passion and misguided worship in the Joker’s green eyes when they gaze apon him.

Only one text message was left. “Bye bye badboy~” It said.

Of course, Bruce left the part of feeling completely heartbroken out of the conversation, while feeling like he should be more concerned for Damian.Damian can take care of himself, he decided. And he is sure that the Joker would not hurt his boy. He gave his word, and despite all this Bruce still wishes to trust him.

And also because of the looks he sees Robin give the Joker, familiar and horrifying at the same time- Is he evil to feel jealous of his own son who may or may not be in danger?

Alfred can see the broken boy he saw when Bruce broke down after his parent’s funeral. If he ever sees the Joker they will have _words_.

‘Now, Mister Wayne, I may have a proposition.” Alfred asks and Bruce sits down, suddenly exhausted and holding the phone as if it was something precious and breakable.

“Yes, Alfred?” Bruce regards Alfred as a father not of blood, and he cannot feel any guilt to his blood parents.

They were heroes, of course. The image of them has twisted over the years, until the loving, reachable mother and father became aloof, impersonal heroes not just to him but to Gotham.

“My sister has called. I’m afraid she is gravely ill. May I visit her?” Alfred has no sister, but he can always get one of his old friends to impersonate. It has been many a year since he has seen his friends, but they were friends all right.

“Of course, Alfred.” Bruce replies. He will not deny anyone to visit a sick relative, after all.

Alfred nods and walks away. Even after years without lying, he could still do it, going through lies and half-truths without a morsel of guilt. He does feel guilty for lying to Bruce, but if he does not the young man he raised as the son he never had would die and his blood would be on his hands.

Another pat to the back and Alfred leaves for Bruce to go down the lift and change. He should be getting those plane tickets now.


	6. Mc donalds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So they are still on the run and...  
> Where should they go to? Canada or mexico?? Or somewhere else?

I was shaken awake from sleep abruptly, and is pretty pissed to see that it’s not the Joker but Jackie’s furry face staring at me, wolfish grin  under that beard.

“Ugh, whaa you wan?” I groan, still too tired to argue.

“Get up, kiddo, dinner time!” He replies, still grinning and slaps me on the back, obviously strong. Must have had military training at one point. Ex-army or ex-marines or something. 

Not that I think I can deduce everything.

So I yawned again. Hope there is a place in where-ever we are staying for yoga. Hmm...

I’ve always liked yoga. It’s very relaxing, and, well, stops my urges of just strangling some of the people around me. 

Anyone else would think that I am unhinged. Well, maybe I am. 

“Mexican? Chinese? Indian? C’mon, Wayne, give an idea-” Jackie asks me as the Joker puts on a scarf(dayum) and takes out a wallet. 

“Nevermind, McDonalds it is.” Jackie grumbles as the Joker leads them to the familiar Golden arches(at least that hasn’t changed.)

They sat down and the Joker proceeds to order all the family value combos. I sorta heard Jackie mumble about the Joker being a cheap bastard, and I glared at him.

“Hate bein’ on the run.” The Joker mumbles as he bites hard into his burger. I try not to stare as I hide behind my food. 

“It’s surprisingly boring, boss.” Jackie said through a mouthful of meat and tomato sauce is clinging to his beard. I made a face.

The children are making extremely loud noises and their parents are doing nothing. Ugh, those little brats. The Joker looks like he is about to  take out a gun and just shoot everyone, but Jackie seems unfazed by this. Actually, he seems unfazed by anything.

 

“Hey look! It’s mommy fag and daddy fag and their baby faggot!” A booming voice, filled with disdain shouted from somewhere near us.

I look up and heads are turned to our table. Jackie and the Joker stops eating. A large man, slightly drunk and in his mid thirties with ruffled up hair and a leather Jacket and jeans with tomato sauce all over it grins in a predatory way.

The Joker smirks as well.  I have a feeling that this guy is dead. So dead. And I’ll probably help.

They disguised me as well, lightning my skin tone and dying my hair a light shade of brown with a small scar by my lip, I look nothing like  Damian Wayne, the missing boy the entire country is searching for. 

Hell, the news may have made it on international television already.

“Hey, faggots! I’ma talkin’ to ya!” The man slams a hand on the table. 

 

\----------------------------

 

“Go away.” The Joker draws, looking bored. To be honest, the entire traveling thing is so boring that he is hoping for  something to stir it up,  but this?

He will not reveal himself for the sake of an idiot calling him a fag. To be honest he never really had any concerns about anything like that.

 

“You heard me, faggot!” The man is really, really pissed at the fact that all three of us are ignoring him.

I continue to ignore him as well, but an urge to sock him is the jaw is taking over.

“Yes, I heard you.” Jackie’s eyes glints with something wild and animalistic and for a second it left me cold. It is like watching someone un  sheath a sharp sword I previously thought dull.

He is filled with pure animalistic rage.

Then the rage is gone and Jackie punches the man in his jaw, knocking him on the ground, and the Joker goes up to the front stage with the  shocked cashiers and bagged our food.

Then we just left. On the way out I kicked the man and he groans again. I smirk. Serves him just right.

“Where are we going?’ I ask them once we are back in the old car. “Hotel.” Jackie answers.

“Can’t stay in this town tonight.” The Joker turns to face me again. Half of his face is shielded by the dark and the other half flickers from the orange street lights to the technicolour of the street signs. Eerie but mesmerising, I caught myself staring.

* * *

 

 

That night when Bruce went on patrol, all he can feel is the absence of robin by his side in the tumbler and the absence of the Joker’s presence in his city.

‘Where the hell are you two?” He hopes that Damian would be fine and the Joker has not done anything to hurt him.

 


	7. 7. Meet me in a hotel room

On the plane, Alfred mapped out his plan. He gets to England and connect with Maria. He has other contacts but she is the one he trusts the most. Not that he can trust any of those sly old bastards.

Then he call Bruce and reassure him. He should not lie to the man, but it is for the greater good. Now how many people has fell and done everything for the greater good?

But without a doubt, he knows his goal now. For years Alfred ran ran and ran, far far away from these people that are monsters at heart, masquerading as people but he will take them down, once and for all.

The ‘organisation’ (is it still called that?) will not know how little Alfred Pennyworth has changed.

“ _Dammit_.” Batman growls as the computer screen shows nothing, not a clue. He filtered through all the possible sightings for Damian, from the bullshit ones to the possible ones.

How far can they go in one day? If they drove the entire way they’d have to stop, for food, for rest and for petrol. He would need to get footage for petrol stations across the country. It’s not a small feat, but-

He calls up the sightings, hacking the police records and chased up all the possible ones, and found nothing. Then he chased up the bullshit ones and found nothing.

Whatever the Joker is doing, it better not involve his _son_.  
\----------------------

By the time we got to the hotel that night, it was around ten thirty pm. It was a small, dingy inn at the side of the road in a small, sleepy town that we do not know the name of. By then we were travelling south of Gotham(Gotham is right next to New York city) and if we keep going south we’d end up in Florida.

I think that we are most likely not going to Florida. As they checked in, I started to wonder whether if my father is all right. Then I shook my head. Ever since I came to Gotham Bruce tried to be loving and doting, but he is awkward about it. Most of the time I stayed away from him.  
But I never doubted that he loved me.

 

The innkeeper was tired and surprised that he has visitors so late at night. There was only one room left.

The Joker lied on the bad while Jackie went to shower. I tried not to stare. Deep breath, Damian, deep breath and think of yoga.

I dropped to the floor to the first sun salutation, the Joker staring at me-he is amused, right? Just amused. So I tried to calm myself down by playing soft, yoga-y music in my mind, and reminding himself of the look on Bruce’s face when he first saw me doing this.

I did a few other stretches and positions, keeping them for a long time as the Joker made a few comments-(in my mind they were about my flexibility, but whatever.)  
I tried not to turn red, or get (too) turned on.

Jackie walks out of the bathroom just when I am doing one particularly difficult-and difficult looking stance.

“Uh...” He said, sounding confused. I ignored him and the Joker rolls his eyes and hid under the moth-bidden blanket.

“Am I witnessing some sort of Satanic ritual?” He asks, squinting around the room. I warmed down with some more stretches.

“Do I look like I am summoning the devil?” I snorted. Jackie is still an annoying bastard, but I think he is not so bad anymore. Then he hops into the only bed with the Joker and gestured me to sleep on the floor.

Fuck that guy.

“What?” He asks as I glare at him like the girl from the ring. Angered and jealous, I flop down onto the floor with half of the blanket.

**“Hey!”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Jackie XD


End file.
